


A Day In The Life

by Suaine



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Gen, M/M, POV Outsider, and generally being adorable, except not really, this is a story about Scott McCall solving a mystery
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-01-05
Updated: 2013-01-05
Packaged: 2017-11-23 18:49:11
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,760
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/625432
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Suaine/pseuds/Suaine
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Scott's day is going from bad, to worse, to kind of okay, to wait, what?!</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Day In The Life

**Author's Note:**

  * For [pollitt](https://archiveofourown.org/users/pollitt/gifts).



> This story was written as a gift for the TW Holidays exchange on LJ.

+

In the muddy light of early dawn, Scott pulled himself up onto the roof of the warehouse and grinned, muscle memory reminding him of the times he would sit on Allison's roof just to watch over her – with her permission, of course. Once she'd learned about his wolfy predicament, Allison had smacked him over the head several times, one each for all of his creepier possessive moments. He didn't dare tell her that that had just been him being a stupid teenager, no wolf powers required.

Stiles would scold him again if he knew that Scott was thinking about Allison while doing pack business. Stiles didn't understand that Allison was just always there, settled warm and safe like a security blanket at the base of his skull. It was nice.

Even now with her on a quest to find herself, Allison was still his anchor.

He smiled and shook his head, moving on. There were skylights scattered all across the roof, dirty but serviceable for a little bit of recon. He bounded over to one of them and used his shirtsleeve to wipe off some of the grime. The warehouse was appropriately eerie for a secret lair, debris of a more functional time pushed into the corners to make room in the middle, where two chairs had been placed. Erica and Boyd seemed to be strapped down tight, their heads lolled forward, bodies slumped against their restraints.

Scott's hand darted to his phone, but he was distracted by the two sluggish heartbeats he could hear. Two. Erica and Boyd were alone. He stilled with his fingers tight around the case of his phone. He could wait for Stiles, Derek and Isaac to arrive, possibly with Peter in tow, losing precious time to whatever indecision and banter that would bring. Or he could go down there, get those ropes off and drag the two wolves out before anyone was the wiser.

Scott sighed and reminded himself that Stiles couldn't stay mad at him for long and fuck Derek's need to be a controlling alpha all the damn time. He was going. He could do this.

+

Of course, in hindsight, it was kind of obvious that it was a trap.

Scott stared down the twins and Lady Kali herself, the woman with the plans and the really sharp claws. She was super scary, more so than even her creepy boyfriend, the so-called leader of their rag-tag band of alphas. Everyone knew that Kali was the one in charge, really, but she knew how to use every resource to her advantage and a figurehead was one of them. That's what Stiles said, anyway.

“Hi,” Scott said, waving with his fingers a little, pushing his fear to the back of his mind, right next to everything he's ever learned about algebra. “It's really great that you were taking care of our friends here, but it's all good now. I'll be taking them home.”

Kali laughed, a deep, resonant sound that would have been beautiful if she didn't do it right before bringing out her claws. On her feet, no less. Scott was man enough to admit that he was pants-wettingly terrified of her. “Does Derek send pups to play with us now? How novel. He's getting smarter about sacrificing his less desirable assets.”

Scott pouted. “Hey, I'm totally desirable!”

Kali cocked her head. “Then perhaps we can keep you, if you can keep up.” She signaled the twins to strike, but before they could so much as crack their necks and wolf out fully, an arrow whistled past Scott, burrowing itself in the ground an inch away from Kali's left big toe.

Cheering on the inside, Scott shrugged. “Maybe next time.”

Stiles stepped out of the shadows to the right and Scott could hear Derek and Isaac growling right behind him. “You have something of ours,” Stiles said, more bravado than sense. “And we'd like it back.”

Kali narrowed her eyes, assessing the situation. She was at a slight disadvantage, mostly because the arrow meant hunters and it was hard to tell how many there would be at any given time. Allison could have come with an army. Scott knew it was unlikely, but there was always that uncertainty. Hunters were a wild card and a pretty damn big deal if Derek called them in.

“I concede that you have surprised me, but the fear I smelled on you was real enough. How did they know where the find you?”

Stiles, who was now close enough to touch, perked up at the obvious interest. The alphas had always found him puzzling yet fascinating, a boy with no obvious use, human and part of a pack as if he were a wolf. They'd said as much, several times. Scott worried about that when he wasn't being saved from his own recklessness.

Stiles held up his phone. “Panic button app. You wouldn't believe how hard it is the get someone to pick up in a crisis, but this way we don't have to. I got it because I don't want to spend another two hours floating in a pool.” He turned to Derek. “No offense.”

Derek shrugged, all dark leather and an odd, lop-sided smile. “None taken. It wasn't my favorite day either.”

Stiles huffed as if he was offended, though Scott figured it was half for show. “You say that like it was the company and not the circumstances.”

“I wouldn't have picked you, that's for sure.”

Stiles bristled, as he always did when Derek poked at him. “Oh yeah, well, I have yet to hear a thank you for keeping your ass alive for two freaking hours.”

“You dropped me in ten feet of water when I couldn't move.”

“I was coming back!”

Scott rolled his eyes. “Guys, hey, we're not a knitting circle, this is a rescue operation. Focus, please.”

Stiles mumbled, “you're one to talk.” He did, however, return his attention to Kali, who was watching with a faint sense of amusement. The kind mothers got while watching their children bully kids on the playground.

“I find you fascinating,” she said, “and because of this I will not kill you today. There are other... issues that need my attention.”

“Other issues? That's not ominous at all, and why make a trap like this if you're just going to let us go?” Scott tried to catch Stiles' eye to make him stop talking. If Kali wanted to leave for unspecified reasons, then they should probably let her.

It was Derek who actually caught Stiles' attention. “Stop talking her into killing your friends, Stiles. It's not a good long term strategy.”

“This is not, as you may have thought, purely about murder,” Kali explained further, stepping closer and running her long fingers over Boyd's bowed head. “We are not really that interested in just killing you, it would be inconvenient.”

“Then why?” Scott was really getting fed up with supernatural assholes and their cryptic monologues.

Kali inclined her head, smiling the cold smile he'd seen on Victoria Argent's face when she was trying to pretend she wasn't thinking about ripping him in half. “If I told you, I would have to kill you, and as I said before, it would not be in my best interests. For now.”

With that, she kicked the chairs over and laughed all the way out the door, manic and evil. Scott winced and waved Stiles to the two betas. “Dude, you gotta get them free. The ropes are made of wolfsbane.”

Stiles shared a look with Derek, like some kind of secret pack thing that Scott didn't get – which hello, _weird_ , since when did Derek and Stiles have silent communication? – and then he stalked over. “Of course they are. Because nothing with you wolves is ever easy.”

+

Stiles was talking quietly to the two wolves as he laid them out on Derek's pathetic excuse for a futon. It was really just a waterlogged mattress with a few old blankets. Scott watched as his best friend said something that made Erica laugh and then there was hair fondling. It was disturbing and made something in Scott's stomach clench hard. He didn't like it.

“I don't like this,” he grumbled.

Derek followed his eyes and there was this weird, almost soft expression on his face. “If I were to guess, I think Stiles feels like he owes them something. Because of what happened in the basement.”

Scott huffed. “What did happen in the basement anyway? He never said.”

Derek sighed. “He looked like someone had used him for a punching bag, Scott. What do you think happened?”

“That's just it!” Scott growled, trying to keep his voice down while expressing his frustration. “I have no idea because he isn't talking to me. He's been really weird ever since the night Gerard killed Matt and I don't know what to do anymore.”

It was weird, the way Derek would shift his stance like he was uncomfortable, like there was something he needed to say but didn't want to. Then the alpha actually draped an arm around Scott's shoulders. “To be fair, you very rarely know what to do.”

Scott punched him in the chest, it was only fair. Not that it hurt anything because Derek's muscles had muscles. “Well, I'm no worse than you, at least.”

“I have my moments.”

Scott shrugged off Derek's arm and whirled around. “But you shouldn't be having any moments involving Stiles. It's bad enough that you made the others into your little foot soldiers, but you can't put him in danger like you did today. He's my best friend, Derek. If something happened to him-”

There was a flash of red, just enough to signal that Scott had scored a hit. “He was right there when I got your message. What did you think I could have done to stop him from helping you? Handcuff him to my car?”

“Why do you even care?” Scott didn't get it. Not a week ago Stiles had declared that the supernatural could mind their own business and Derek had shown him the metaphorical door. Stiles shouldn't even have been there. “Why are you still talking to him?”

Derek deflated. It was actually kind of funny. “Honestly, Scott? I have no idea. I don't know.”

Stiles came up to them, smiling a little, the way he did when he had one of his terrible ideas and thought he was being especially brilliant. Scott knew very well that Stiles was both incredibly smart and incredibly awful at applying that intelligence in a common sense way. That's why they worked so well together, except for those times when Scott let Stiles run roughshod over his better judgment.

“Okay, we have some good news and some bad news. Mostly bad news actually. What do you want to hear first?”

For some reason Stiles was directing most of his enthusiasm at Derek, a fact that made Scott's skin crawl. He glared at the back of Derek's head. “Why don't you just start talking and we'll figure it out?” Derek sounded strange, almost indulgent, despite the words.

“Oh, you are no fun. Okay. I guess this is bad news for us, although frankly I wouldn't mind trading places once they're all healed up. Uh. They don't remember anything. Erica says the last thing she knows is pleading for her life with Allison two weeks ago.”

Scott couldn't stop himself from making a distressed sound. Stiles patted his arm. “Don't worry, I told them your Amazon princess is all better so there shouldn't be too much bad blood there. Whatever the alphas wanted from them though, I guess that's not going to come out easy.”

Derek crossed his arms and nodded at Stiles to move on. “You said something about good news.”

Grinning like the cat that got the canary, Stiles rubbed his palms together. “Good news is that they're not damaged any more than they were before they tried to get away from you. And Erica wants to get her license. I told her I would teach her because it's a normal thing for a normal teenager to do and we all need some normal around here. And since my jeep is a stick shift, I told her you'd be fine with letting us use the Camaro.” Stiles almost bounced with glee and Scott could only imagine the sour face Derek was making right this moment. He really didn't want to check and draw attention to himself.

“C'mon,” Stiles said, getting awfully close to Derek, but then Scott imagined once you've spent the better part of a hostage situation on top of each other, the definition of personal space gets a little weird. “I promise I won't hurt your baby and it would help make Erica feel that she belongs here.”

To everyone's surprise, probably including Derek himself, the alpha relented. “Fine,” he ground out, reaching into his pocket and dangling the keys over Stiles outstretched hand. “But you're responsible.”

Stiles grinned after the retreating werewolf, smart enough at least to keep his glee mostly to himself. He squealed a little when Derek was out of sight and bounced on the balls of his feet. “This is going to be so awesome!”

Scott frowned. “I don't remember it being all that special.”

“Yeah, but that's because you drive like a little nearsighted old lady. Without glasses.”

“Hey!” Scott tapped Stiles' arm, not daring a real punch. “We still on for lacrosse practice later?”

Stiles nodded, but Scott could tell his mind was already somewhere else.

+

When Scott got home and the adrenaline finally left his system, he fell into the couch cushions and started at the black screen of their TV. He hadn't slept the night before, spending most of it either collaborating with Derek, which was always fraught with tension, or running around the warehouse district trying to pick up the twins' trail. Things had worked out well, but now he was exhausted.

“Hey, kiddo,” his mom called from the kitchen. Scott groaned and pushed himself up into a standing position that was more a slouch than anything else. He shuffled into the kitchen.

“Hey mom,” he said. “Getting ready for work?”

She rolled her eyes at him and Scott loved her so much he couldn't breathe. “Yes, and you would know that if you got up before eleven every now and then. Summer isn't an excuse to become nocturnal, you know.” She narrowed her eyes at him, suddenly focused. “Speaking of nocturnal, please tell me you weren't doing anything dangerous last night.”

Scott thought back to the look on Kali's face. “Nah, mom, nothing dangerous. Erica and Boyd are back and we just... lost track of time.”

His mom smiled and moved to give him a hug. “I just worry about you, honey.”

“Yeah, I get it, mom.”

She grinned on the way out. “Before I forget, double shift today, so it's your turn to get the groceries. The list and some money's on the fridge. Love you, puppy.”

Scott huffed, affronted. “Mom!” But she was already getting into the car. That's when he realized she wanted him to take his _bike_.

+

Scott's phone rang in the dairy aisle. Whoever it was had great timing, because Scott was about to lose his mind. He picked up and started talking before his caller could get a word in.

“What the hell is Ricotta and where can I find it?”

Stiles laughed, the sound a little tinny. “Are you at Whole Foods?”

Scott stared down at the nondescript family-size yogurt. “No, uh, the Walmart over by the animal clinic. I still have to work four hours before lunch.”

“Right, so, Ricotta is some kind of cheese, sort of like if cream cheese and cottage cheese had a baby.”

Scott stared at the cheeses. “Okay. Can I just get cream cheese?”

Stiles was quiet for a moment. “Depends on what your mom wants to do with it, but that should be fine. It's probably just a health thing. Less fat than cream cheese, easier to digest than cottage.”

Scott swallowed. “Your dad?” It wasn't really something they talked about, this obsession Stiles had with giving his dad healthy food alternatives that kind of sucked the fun out of everything. It wasn't that Stiles was actually cooking healthy meals, just researching the hell out of which products were full of cholesterol or carcinogens.

“Yeah, hey, uh,” Stiles said, apparently changing the subject. They still weren't back to a place where it was okay for Scott to bring up his fears. Dammit. “As a wolf, what sort of things would you say would make another wolf feel, uh, good about someone? Not like a love potion or anything like that, that would be silly, but just stuff that makes you... feel happy? Food? Nice smells? Chew toy?”

Scott took his phone off his ear for a moment and stared at it disbelieving, shaking his head. “What?” Only two weeks ago Stiles had been completely heartbroken over Lydia and now he was asking for... for dating advice? About a werewolf? “Dude, please tell me you're not falling for Erica. She knocked you out with a radiator.”

Stiles was very, very quiet for a long moment. Scott could almost hear his heart beat over the phone. “No, not Erica. First of all, Boyd would probably kill me and, uh, she's not really my type.”

Erica was an attractive person who apparently had some other engagement and tended to emasculate Stiles with her words – Scott thought that was kind of exactly his type. “How is she not your type? She's gorgeous.”

Stiles swallowed. “Forget it, okay? I'll figure something else out.” And then he hung up.

Scott waited another minute, but Stiles didn't call back. He picked up the cream cheese.

+

The thing was that Stiles really had no leg to stand on when it came to romantic bullshit. When Scott had first started dating Allison, yeah, he'd been a bit of a lovestruck dick. But Stiles had spent almost their entire friendship looking past Scott to Lydia Martin, tuning out everything he said when she was in a thirty foot radius.

Scott growled at a misbehaving kitten with more fleas than a flea market. “It's just weird, is all.” The kitten mewled and wriggled in his hand. “I thought he was done with the werewolves and the kanima and the blood, you know?”

The kitten had no opinion.

Later, Deaton noticed something about Scott and pulled him aside. “Are you okay, kid?”

Scott shrugged. “It's just Stiles. I think he might be having trouble getting over what happened with Gerard.”

Deaton cocked his head. “And that's why you look like someone stole your favorite blanket?”

“He's my best friend. I worry about him.”

He really, truly did. It was just that right this moment he wondered if he was worrying about his friend's sexual agency and whether or not he was in any state to make sound decisions because of damage caused by being werewolf-adjacent for too long. So basically, he was worrying about whether Stiles' ill-advised werewolf crush was somehow his fault.

And that would be bad. Very bad.

Especially because Scott had a feeling that Stiles would throw himself headfirst into it and if it wasn't Erica then it had to be Isaac and the poor kid wouldn't know what hit him. Both when it started and when it eventually fell apart. Scott had to do something, even if it meant talking to his best friend about feelings.

+

“So what changed?” Scott asked as a ball flew past his head. “Last week you were still convinced that you'd be Mr. Lydia Martin and didn't want anything to do with all this stuff.”

Stiles looked uncomfortable in his old lacrosse pads. “I'm sixteen, Scott, I'm allowed to change my mind.”

Scott rolled his eyes. “Yeah, sure, about what Avenger you like best or what pizza is your favorite. Not about the love of your life.”

Stiles lobbed another ball directly at his head and Scott let it connect for the sake of friendship. “Ow, and also, why not someone nice and normal?” He couldn't put his finger on why the idea of Stiles and Isaac bothered him so much. Isaac was a nice guy and Stiles deserved all the happiness in the world.

“Yeah, well, I don't actually know anyone normal and it's not about just picking someone out of a lineup. Me and that... person. We had a talk and then we had another talk and it turns out they're actually pretty awesome. For a wolf.”

Scott whimpered. “Danny's nice. You know Danny.”

Another ball hit him, right in the face, and this one actually hurt. Stiles was actually mad about this. “Oh my god, dude, what is wrong with you? For one, Danny doesn't like me. And for another, I'm pretty sure he's as sweet on Jackson as Lydia is, and I am done mooning over that douchebag's entourage.”

Because Scott was a good friend, he just nodded and let it go. If Stiles wanted to date a wolf and get even more drawn into all this crap, then who was Scott to judge? He was still hoping to get back together with Allison and she was destined to kill all of his kind. He wasn't going to be a hypocritical ass about it.

“Hey, so, are you coming tonight? I know you and Derek aren't exactly best buddies, but with all this alpha business and memory magic, I think they're going to need you. And me. But mostly you.”

“What?”

“I think there's going to be pizza. Do it for the pizza?”

Scott blinked. “Okay, I guess. For the pizza.”

Stiles grinned at him and Scott had the feeling he was missing something. “Great, now pay attention or I might actually score a goal before we have to leave.”

+

The whole pack was there, of course. Even Peter and Jackson lurked in their respective corners, looking like they'd rather be anywhere but here. But here they were. Scott stuck close to Stiles, who seemed to be vibrating with excitement.

“Hey, uh, Scott, why don't you keep Isaac some company, I need to go talk to Derek for a second.”

Then he was gone, presumably searching the corners and other little niches for their lurker king, Derek Hale. Scott was about to grumble when he realized that this would give him time to grill Isaac on the whole crush situation.

Unsurprisingly, Isaac was idly picking at their assorted snacks – there were snacks, what was this, a party? - and being cute. Scott's always thought of himself as kind of adorable, often as a defense mechanism, but Isaac, dude, that guy had the puppy look down.

“Hey,” Scott said, making a pass for the sour cream chips.

Isaac glared at the thieving fingers. “Hey,” he said, a little suspicious as to Scott's hand's motivation.

“So,” Scott started, crunching down on the salty deliciousness, “you've had any interesting conversations lately?”

Isaac stared at him like a confused puppy. Actually, everything Isaac did reminded Scott of puppies. And maybe kittens. “Not particularly.”

Scott frowned. “Right, but, like, you talk to Stiles sometimes, right?”

“Not really. He's probably still mad at me for threatening Lydia that time we thought she was a scary lizard monster. He didn't take that one well.” Isaac grinned, like it was a joke, but Scott knew to take anything Lydia-related seriously – Stiles was not rational when it came to his heart.

But, okay. Scott wasn't the smartest kid in the room; he was perfectly and occasionally frustratingly average. His mind didn't jump from evidence to conclusion as easily as Stiles' did. Sometimes he was too literal by half. However, he didn't need to be a genius to figure out that either Stiles was lying, which was always a possibility, or he'd guessed wrong on the crush.

There was only one other option though – two if Scott could ever even entertain the possibility that Stiles might like _him_ , which he obviously didn't – and that option was...

No freaking way.

Derek Hale was a grade A butthole. No way was Stiles in love with him.

Except when Scott concentrated, he could hear Stiles laughing somewhere out of sight and Derek's nasally whine appeared to be the cause. They were talking about some kind of movie, possibly, as Stiles was rambling on and on about the hotness of tattoos and Guy Pearce and how to film memory loss backwards or something.

“You okay?” Isaac asked quietly, a hand on Scott's arm.

Scott shook himself, getting the surprise out of his system. So Stiles had terrible taste in crushes, that wasn't news. He could be the best best friend ever and not make a big deal out of this. “Yeah, I guess.”

He and Isaac talked about the alphas for a while, both of them more than a little in awe of Kali and her fierceness, when Derek and Stiles finally showed up. And ugh, Stiles was actually glowing with happiness, it was kind of nauseating.

“So, uh,” Stiles began, “you know that thing we talked about earlier?”

Scott really didn't want to talk about this. “Yeah, I remember.”

Stiles beamed. Oh god, he looked happier than Scott had seen him in years, maybe happier than he'd been since his mom got sick. “I think it might be mutual.”

Scott so didn't want to know. “How, uh, how do you know?”

Stiles looked away, rubbing the back of his head. He was nervous. “I may have kissed Derek and he didn't rip my throat out, so I'm thinking that's pretty solid evidence. Maybe?”

Hating his entire life and everything that got them to this moment, Scott rolled his eyes, pulled Stiles in for a hug, and said, “yeah, I guess it is.”

+

The pizza party didn't so much end as it slowly frayed out, with people quietly slipping away, and Scott was on a mission. He needed to kick a butthole in the butt. When he found Derek outside, he quickly turned away and slapped a hand over his eyes, because no one needed to see their best friend getting face-sucked. He silently apologized to Stiles for all the times he and Allison had forgotten that paramount rule of the bro code.

“Guys, I need to talk to Derek alone for a sec.”

It took a ridiculous amount of time for Stiles to pass him on the way back into the depot, slapping his shoulder and murmuring, “don't hurt yourself trying to kick his ass.”

Scott turned to the alpha and tried to look menacing. Derek looked kind of blissed out and indulgent though, so it probably wasn't working. “He's sixteen, you know?”

Derek rolled his eyes. “I know. He knows. It's not a problem. We've got time.”

Scott poked Derek in the chest. “Yeah, well, his dad is probably going to kill you anyway.”

Derek actually smiled. It made Scott want to die, so creepy. “Turns out, there are some things that are worth the risk.”

“Oh my god, stop making that face.” Scott hated the world. And Derek. Mostly Derek.

“I can try.”

Scott huffed. “You're a terrible person. He deserves so much better.”

Derek's smile slipped, turning into something vulnerable and melancholy. Scott kind of wanted the smug smile back, because this was bordering on sharing their feelings. “Yeah, I know.”

“I- what?”

Derek ruffled Scott's hair. He ruffled. His hair! Ugh. “He's lucky to have you, you know that?”

“I-”

“It's kind of late and Stiles is waiting for you. Let's never talk about this again.” Derek smiled again, softer this time. “But just so you know, if I really hurt him and you tried to avenge him, I would probably let you get a few good punches in before taking you down.”

Scott gaped after Derek as he disappeared into the shadows like the creeper he was. A strange lightness began to spread in his chest and when he reached Stiles' car, where his best friend was waiting giddily bouncing on the balls of his feet, Scott laughed and tackled him into a hug.

There were always going to be terrible things waiting for them in the shadows now, kanima and alphas and hunters, but at least he had days like this, when they worried about driving lessons and stupid young love and who got the last piece of pizza. And as long as there was some of that, they would probably be all right.


End file.
